


ae_ldws round 5 entries

by snottygrrl



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: ae_ldws, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snottygrrl/pseuds/snottygrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>my entries for round 5 of the arthur/eames last drabble writer standing challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Greatest Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eames just wants to shoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for week 1:  
> Genre: Action  
> Prompt: Banana  
> Word Count: Up to 300

“This would be a lot easier if you’d just let me shoot him,” Eames said as he ducked behind one of the purple striped poles, a projectile narrowly missing him.

“Easier how, exactly?” asked Arthur. “Easier to deal with 600 projections after their favorite performer has been killed right in front of them? Or easier for me to explain to the client why his daughter – who we promised no harm would come to, you may recall – woke up from a simple extraction inconsolable?”

Eames grunted noncommittally. 

Eying their target, Arthur tried to work out a feasible approach. Bobo, arguably the circus’ biggest star, was lounging on top of the box they needed to get into to complete the job. He showed no sign of moving. 

Arthur was just wondering if there was a way they could use the clowns, when his train of thought was derailed by a wet thunk and a string of curses. He turned to find Eames wiping mashed banana off his face.

The corners of Arthur’s lips twitched up despite his best efforts. “Bobo has pretty good aim for a gorilla,” he remarked.

Eames glared. “How about if I just wing him?”

~fin


	2. Not Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur’s just trying to cope the best he can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** angsty angst -- full warnings at bottom (spoiler)
> 
> written for week 2:  
> Genre: Angst  
> Prompt: Balloon  
> Word Count: 200 exactly

“Happy Valentines, Eames.” Arthur’s voice is quiet, uncharacteristically subdued. “I just wanted to stop by for a minute to give you something.” 

He’s holding a large helium balloon in a white-knuckled grip. It’s a heart in garish pink, the _I love you_ emblazoned on it in a ridiculously over-scrolled script.

“I know, I know, I should be home with Ariadne not here with you. But the thing is, though I care for her a great deal, even she knows I could never love her the way I do you.” Arthur glances away. “Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for her everyday. I’m not sure I would have made it through this without her. However she’s not _you_.”

“You’d think by this time I’d’ve gotten over it,” he shrugs, his smile self-depreciating, “but I couldn’t _not_ see you today.”

Crouching down, Arthur sets the balloon’s cupid-shaped plastic weight on the headstone, wraps the ribbon a few times around a vase of flowers someone else has left. “I’ll just put it here.” 

He traces Eames’ name where it’s carved in the granite, fusses with the flowers before he straightens up, turning to leave. 

“I’ll see you on your birthday, Mr. Eames.”

~fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning(s):** major character death


	3. Pink Sparkly Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur likes Eames, and Eames likes Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for week 3. this one i thought came out pretty well, so of course a glitch forced the mods to scrap the week and it ended up not counting ::headdesk::  
> Genre: Romance  
> Prompt: Moleskine  
> Word Count: Up to 300

Eames was returning from the loo when he heard Ariadne say, "I can't understand why you don't just invite him out."

"Who?" Cobb asked, echoing Eames' thoughts.

"Eames, of course," she replied, and Eames could practically hear her eye-roll. 

Cobb sounded confused. "Wait, Arthur likes Eames?"

"It is beyond me how you guys can still be in this business and alive with your stunning observation skills." Ariadne said in way of reply. "Arthur's been mooning over him for so long I keep expecting to find _Mr. & Mr. Eames_ written in his Moleskine surrounded by pink sparkly hearts." 

Arthur made a horrified noise. Eames had always known Ariadne was an observant little thing. He wagered he could teach her forging if she was interested.

"To be fair, though," she went on, "Eames isn't much better. I'm almost sure I caught him doodling Arthur's name when you were carrying on yesterday afternoon."

"I do not _carry on_ ," said an indignant Cobb. "Everything I say has a specific... Hang on, Eames likes Arthur?"

An observant little thing, Eames thought, that needed to learn when to keep her mouth shut.

"If Arthur likes Eames, and Eames likes Arthur, why aren't they dating?" asked Cobb. "Why aren't you dating?"

"My point exactly," Ariadne huffed.

As endearing as it was to hear Arthur choke and splutter, Eames was far too much of a gentleman to leave him to their tender mercies any longer. Besides, they needed to talk. He strode into the room.

"And what makes you think we'd tell you lot if we were?" Eames said. "Come on, Darling, I saw an Italian place a block over I've been wanting to try."

Eames didn't realise he'd been holding his breath until Arthur turned to him with a wide smile. 

"Lead the way, Mr. Eames."

~fin


	4. Curiosity and Satisfaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eames never suspected that Arthur wanted to be rescued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from the famous proverb and rejoinder: _curiosity killed the cat; satisfaction brought him back._   
> **warnings:** general silliness and bulldog!cobb  
>  written for week 3 REDO:  
> Genre: Crack  
> Prompt: "I am never doing that again."  
> Word Count: Up to 400

Despite the warnings, Eames was unconcerned. As he'd explained to Yusuf, he'd been in unconstructed dreamspace before and in minds nowhere near as orderly as Arthur's.

He was therefore entirely gobsmacked to find himself with four paws and a tail upon entering the dream; though he was rather pleased to discover that he appeared to be a handsome ginger tomcat. 

It didn't take him long to pick up Arthur's scent, which he followed to a dank basement. There was a sleek black cat pawing at a pile of twine. It was unmistakably Arthur.

Nosing open the casement, Eames dropped down and sauntered over to him. "Hello darling, what are you doing?"

"Research," Arthur replied without looking up.

"Hmmm," Eames agreed. "As riveting as I'm sure it is, Yusuf sent me to fetch you."

"Can't leave until I finish this," Arthur said impatiently.

Eames tried again, "Maybe I can help? Speed things along so we can get back to Yusuf? He's rather anxious to speak with you."

"I don't think so," a familiar voice said. Eames turned to see a bulldog emerging from the shadows. "Last time you helped us on a job, Arthur paid more attention to you than the job and almost got us all stuck in limbo."

Eames hackles rose at the implication that Arthur was in anyway at fault for that fiasco. "As I recall," he hissed, "it was your _bribing_ the chemist that nearly got our brains scrambled."

Cobb waved a paw negligently. "Think what you will, but I am never doing that again. Now I think it's time for you to go."

Eames spared a brief thought for how weird it _wasn't_ to hear Cobb's voice coming from a bulldog's mouth. "It is. Come on, Arthur, we're leaving."

Arthur turned to him. "We are?"

"You're not!" Cobb growled loudly, causing Arthur to cower.

It was so wrong to see Arthur hunched in on himself like that, that Eames unsheathed his claws and took a vicious swipe across Cobb's nose. The bulldog whimpered, scampering back out of sight.

A pleased purr rumbled in Eames' ear just before Arthur's head butted up against his. He'd ponder the implications of all of this later, but first he needed to get them both back. 

He nuzzled Arthur in return before pulling away. "Let's go see Yusuf."

~fin


	5. Dangerous When Wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new lifeguard down at the pool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for week 4:
> 
> Genre: HS/College AU  
> Prompt: Wet  
> Word Count: Up to 300

"Hurry up!" Dan whined.

There were few places Arthur would rather be _less_ than the community pool, but his mother made it clear that if he expected to use the car to get to Yusuf's, he'd have to 'do his part' for the family. That included driving his annoying little brother to and from swim class.

"Like it's my fault the lot's so full," Arthur grumbled. He finally found a spot and Dan rushed to class before Arthur had even shut off the car. Scooping up his book, Arthur trailed after him. 

The pool was always a crowded, noisy mass, however, it was even busier than usual. When Arthur saw the flock of bikini-clad teens surrounding the lifeguard chair, he recalled Ariadne saying something about a dreamy new exchange student named Eames who was working there this summer.

Arthur snorted. Just what he needed, a _foreign_ jock to harass him. Settling into a chair in the shade, he opened his book.

::~::

"Arthur! Look!"

Arthur watched in horror as Dan tried to do a flip off the high dive, hit his head, and plummeted into the water. No sooner had he gone under than there was an echoing splash and the new lifeguard was hauling a coughing Dan out of the pool. 

Once Arthur was sure Dan was okay, he turned to thank his rescuer. He was stalled by an intricate tattoo on the bicep and shoulder in front of him. He watched a droplet of water skim the edge of one swirl and had a sudden urge to follow it with his fingers.

"You must be Arthur, I'm Eames."

Looking up guiltily, Arthur was met by beautiful blue eyes and a cocky grin. _Oh god_ , he thought, _I'm so fucked_ , and tried his best to smile.

~fin


	6. Picture Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariadne knows what is what, or maybe not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for week 5:
> 
> Genre: Fluff  
> Prompt: Frame  
> Word Count: Up to 300

Ariadne fumes as she refills her coffee mug. Just because Arthur has been doing this longer doesn't mean he knows everything. She's just as observant, sees things, too. Cobb has told her she's good at this, picked it up faster than anyone he knows. 

Squaring her shoulders, she heads back into the main room ready to tell Arthur what for, even if he is technically her boss. She looks up, argument ready on her lips and stops in her tracks.

Arthur is at his desk, glasses pushed up as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Was I too hard on her?"

Eames moves closer, hands rubbing almost absently over Arthur's slumped shoulders. "Of course not, love. Being cock-sure in this business can get you or someone else killed. She needs to understand that." 

Ariadne's eyes widen as she watches Arthur lean back into Eames' touch, resting his head against him, eyes closed. The motion is natural, so instinctive that Ariadne's forced to admit that all of her previous assumptions about Arthur and Eames' love/hate, never-consummated relationship are most likely completely off base.

"She'll be okay, yeah?" Arthur finally asks quietly.

"We'll make sure of it," answers Eames as he leans down to kiss him.

They make a handsome picture framed against the window, one Ariadne knows isn't meant to be seen. Ducking her head, she slips quietly back into the kitchenette.

 _Maybe,_ thinks Ariadne wryly, _She might still have a thing or two to learn._

~fin


	7. Ruthless Efficiency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eames never thought snacks could be his undoing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for week 6:  
> Genre: Pre-Movie  
> Prompt: Cheetos  
> Word Count: Up to 300

Repressing a yawn, Eames tries to focus as Cobb goes over the latest changes to the architecture. Eames only arrived yesterday afternoon and his body has yet to adjust. Tired and hungry, he reaches for the large bag of snacks in the center of the table, hoping against hope it'll somehow help.

"Mal and I were discussing it last night and we wondered... Arthur," Cobb interrupts himself, voice bewildered, "you're eating Cheetos with chopsticks. Who eats Cheetos with chopsticks?"

Arthur deftly picks up another. "Someone who had to go to six dry cleaners in order to get Cheetos' dust off of the sleeve of his Gucci jacket last time you indulged in your favourite college junk food."

Mal beams at Arthur. " _You_ are brilliant. Dom, get us some chopsticks." Cobb looks like he's going to object, until she adds, "You don't have to use them of course, unless you plan on touching me before you've changed clothes and had a shower."

Grumbling, Cobb stomps off in search of last night's Chinese takeaway bag.

When Eames had accepted this job, he'd vowed to himself that he was not going to moon over Arthur. He's a grown man, not some soppy youth. Just because Arthur is lithe and lovely and pretty much ruthless efficiency in a gorgeous suit, does not mean that Eames should be anything but professional.

However, as he watches Arthur's long fingers work the chopsticks when he absently grabs another neon puff, while busily scribbling notes with his other hand _at the same time_ , Eames realises it's hopeless. He's well on his way to falling arse over teakettle for the man, and there's not a thing he can do about it.

"Cobb," Eames calls, "bring me a pair, too."

~fin


	8. Diplomatic Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing better than a good slice of pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for week 7:  
> Genre: Sci-fi  
> Prompt: Cafe  
> Word Count: Between 350 & 400
> 
> (also won that week)

Arthur had just taken the first bite when their shuttle pilot, Yusuf, approached the table.

"The Commander has sent me to inform you that the diplomat we were sent to retrieve has requested a dream meeting. You're needed in dream suite sixteen at o'eight-hundred hours and your presence on board is required immediately."

"We're on shore leave, Yusuf," Eames said. "There's an entire dream-share squadron back on the ship that can take care of a routine diplomatic parley."

"Sorry, my friend," Yusuf replied. "The diplomat is a native Coboldian. You're the only one who's managed to forge the species."

Eames swore under his breath. "Come on, darling, duty calls."

Arthur didn't even bother to look up. "Duty calls _you_. I've been waiting for months to get some decent Earth cuisine here at Mama's Café and I'm not leaving before I do. Nash is filing in, I'm sure he'll do fine."

"Nash? Are you crazy?" asked Yusuf. "Don't you remember that the last time Nash was in a dream with a Coboldian he came so close to creating an intergalactic incident that Saito had to be called in to smooth things over?"

Grimacing at the memory, Arthur put his fork down with a resigned sigh.

Eames glanced at the slump of Arthur's shoulders, his expression calculating. "You know, Yusuf, you really should sample some of the pie before we go."

"Don't even try," Yusuf warned. "The Commander was quite adamant about _immediately_."

"Of course, of course." Eames nodded contritely. "Arthur, why don't you find the lovely Ariadne and tell her to cancel the rest of our order. Yusuf and I will head back to the shuttle and meet you there shortly." 

Yusuf, who was turning to go, stopped abruptly. "Ariadne's your server?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Do you know her?" Eames inquired politely. "Wait a tick, is she the one you've been trying to get to join up with the corps?"

"I was just commenting the other day, that the two of you can be awfully hard to locate at times," Yusuf said. "Everyone on the ship knows that."

"So true," Eames agreed, pushing out a chair. "Almost impossible if we're really trying."

Arthur ducked his head to hide his smile and picked his fork back up.

~fin


	9. Friday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you get a do over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for week 8:  
> Genre: Post-movie  
> Prompt: "Get the fuck over here"  
> Word Count: 400 exactly
> 
> and i was ousted this week, giving me the bronze medal.

Arthur sits on the stool and tries to remember what it means to go out for Friday night drinks at the local bar. Tries not to have five exit strategies and know exactly which of the clientele have weapons and what kind (he does anyway.) 

There is no mark to observe and Saito's influence makes the presence of any enemies highly unlikely. It will take some getting used to.

The last time Arthur was in this bar Mal was alive. Or at least he'd thought she'd been. He and Eames had been laughing and flirting and Arthur had allowed himself to think that perhaps their relationship could grow into something more, something permanent. They'd made arrangements to have dinner the next night. And then Dom had called and everything changed.

He'd not seen or talked to Eames for some time after that, until Dom had taken a job they couldn't pull off without him. Eames had walked into the warehouse they were using as their base, all confidence and swagger. Arthur had wanted him so much it hurt. But he had also been aware that he no longer had that luxury. So when Dom had left to pick up the chemist and Eames had turned to him, his voice raw with need and said, "Christ, Arthur, get the fuck over here," he'd responded with a shake of his head and a firm "We have work to do Mr. Eames," and that had been that. Eames had never asked again.

Arthur couldn't count the number of times he'd thought about that day or wondered what would have happened if he'd chosen a different response. Had wished he was the kind of person who could have no-strings-attached relationships. 

Arthur sighs into his drink. Perhaps coming here hadn't been the best idea.

He tenses as someone approaches from behind him, reminds himself that breaking the kneecaps of random patrons tends to be frowned upon in upper class L.A. bars. Tries to remember how to politely get rid of someone who's hitting on you.

"I thought I'd find you here," says a familiar voice. 

Arthur feels want uncoil inside him. "Did you now?" he responds, hope warring with caution. "And what where you planning on doing when you did?" He turns to find Eames smiling at him.

Clasping the back of Arthur's neck, Eames pulls him closer. "Darling, do you really need to ask?"

~fin


End file.
